


You Can Be Damn Sure (We'll Avenge It)

by FormidableChronicler



Series: Bad Ass Ladies of Marvel [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And Deserve to Be Happy Dammit, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame trailer, BAMF Nebula (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Background Guardians of the Galaxy, F/M, Hurt Tony Stark, Male/Female Friendship, Nebula Feels, Pepper and Tony are the best, Pepperony - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Avengers:Endgame, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, it broke me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormidableChronicler/pseuds/FormidableChronicler
Summary: Nebula is stranded on Titan with a wrecked ship and a useless Terran, badly injured after being run through with his own sword.But perhaps he's not so worthless after all.





	You Can Be Damn Sure (We'll Avenge It)

**Author's Note:**

> The Avengers: Endgame trailer destroyed me. The very beginning, with Tony's shaking hand reaching out toward his helmet is JUST SO MUCH. I teared up right in the middle of work, and all my co-workers thought me ridiculous. (Totally didn't care)  
> I've loved RDJ and Tony Stark for a long time, he needs nice things to happen to him, is that too much to ask Marvel?!?!? 
> 
> But another shot in the trailer reminded me that Tony's not alone. And he's not the only one grieving. 
> 
> Nebula's story takes place right after Infinity War, leading up to and including that opening scene in the first Endgame trailer. It's my first attempt at a story after the dusting in IW, and it practically wrote itself.
> 
> Comments are love, and I hope you enjoy!

The ship was worthless.

Kicking it didn’t diminish the rage curling in her chest. Slamming into it with her fists, screaming obscenities and promises for retribution, did nothing to slow her antagonized heartbeat or quell the horrific feeling of uselessness surging through her.

The Benatar remained half crushed by a moon, unable to get into the sky.

And Thanos had won.

He had _won_ , the vicious bastard had actually done it, and now she was stuck on Titan with a Terran who had been run through with his own sword. Likely about to die any moment.

And then Nebula would be alone. Because Thanos had gotten all of the stones, and the Benatar’s crew had faded to dust in front of her, and Gamora...

Gamora...

“Damn him!” She screamed, bashing her fists into the dented door of the Benatar again. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like this, Thanos was supposed to be _dead_.

“If you stop attacking the ship, Blue Man Group, I might be able to fix it. Unless you’re planning on enacting out the rest of your hissy fit on the poor thing.”

Nebula whirled around. The Terran stood in front of her, head held defiantly. But despite his jerked up chin and flippant words, she could see his vulnerability. The Terran was barely able to stay upright, pain flashing through his deep brown eyes. Though whether that was because of his injuries or the grief that had consumed him when the boy had disappeared, she was not sure.

And she did not care.

“How are you going to fix anything? You can barely stand,” she snapped, and turned back to the piece of shit Benatar. Why Gamora had loved the thing was beyond her. It should have withstood the damage Thanos inflicted on it. Maybe there would be something useful she could use to fix it in her pod, if she could get through enough of the rubble burying it.

“I’m a mechanic.”

The Terran was still talking, as if she would take the time to listen to him. Quill was like that too, always chattering endlessly. Did the Terrans ever shut up? Always the incessant nattering on.

 _Had been._ Quill _had been_ like that. But now he was gone and dusted with the rest of them. And left her with nothing but a dead sister and a worthless ship.

“Are there tools on board? Anything I can look at to see if the ship can get in the air? And—“ he grimaced, a hand going to his wound. “A first aid kit wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Why?” She demanded before he could speak again. “Why does it even matter?”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“You lost the boy. What does it matter if you get the ship working. Why do you care? There’s no one left.”

His hand fell and he stared at her with shock.

Nebula turned away and started to head for her pod. She didn’t need a Terran to fix the ship. And she damn sure didn’t need him to slow her down.

She would find Thanos. Even if it was the last thing she did.

“There is someone.” The Terran’s words were so quiet she barely heard them. Nebula paused and glanced back, to see the Terran shuffling toward her, his arm once again pressed against his injury.

“The kid was—-“ the Terran paused, eyes burning bright, face crumpling for a moment. This time there was no doubt the pain in his eyes was from grief. Nebula wondered if that was what she would look like when she thought of Gamora, if feelings were still a thing that plagued her.

The Terran fought for control. “The kid matters to me. A hell of a lot. And...” he looked away, down to his hands, where the boy’s ashes still covered them. “I failed him. But there is someone, on Earth. There is someone left. I need to get back to her. I have to fix this fuck up.”

“There is nothing you can do. And she is probably dead.”

He flinched, making blood from a nasty gash drip down his damaged face. He didn’t register it. Tough, for a Terran. Quill would have been whining by now.

“No, she...She isn’t dead.” He said hoarsely. “I can’t believe that. And Strange said...he said we were in the endgame. There might be something. To get them back.”

“You are in no position to do anything.”

“If you get me home, I can. I have a team, they can help us.”

“Your team is likely dusted. The only thing that matters is killing Thanos.”

“Someone has to be left.” He limped toward her, head tilted defiantly again. “We’re here, aren’t we? Someone has to be left. They can help us. We can help you.”

“I do not need the help of Terrans.”

“My team—if there’s anyone left, and my math is never wrong so _someone_ has to be—-consists of an actual god and a hulk that cannot be killed. And there’s an android that’s worthy of the gods. Don’t ask me to explain that one. We’ve got an enhanced king that won’t back down for anything to protect his people, and a guy who can shrink and grow at a fantastically impressive rate. Not to mention some feisty spies, a Rhodey with a suit as good as mine, a Falcon, a witch you do NOT want to mess with... and a super soldier.” He stumbled a little over the last one, but didn’t back down. “The worst has happened, and we didn’t protect everyone. But we can damn sure avenge them. We’ll help you kill Thanos.”

“Thanos is mine.”

He nodded. “Then we’ll do everything we can to get you that kill shot.”

Perhaps the Terran would be useful, after all.

 

 

 

“Ow,” Nebula growled, swiping an arm back. Two weeks after they got the Benetar in the stars, the Terran—-whose name turned out to be Tony Stark—-was trying to fix her connector port, and doing a terrible job of it.

Her palm connected with Stark’s knee, but he only grunted and slapped her hand away.

“Sit still, Rainbow Dash, I’m almost finished.”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Oh, am I? Would you like to fix the back of your neck? I’d be happy to go back to monitoring the distress call.”

“I never should have helped you live.”

“Too late, you’re never getting rid of me now. And seriously, stop moving before I solder this wrong. Who put this connector unit in here, a monkey? I could have done better as a child.”

Nebula gritted her teeth and let him fix the panel she’d smashed trying to search the vents of the ship. “Thanos didn’t really care who tended to me after he ripped me to pieces and threw me new parts. I have no idea who placed it in my neck.”

The hands behind her stilled. “That is...horrendously fucked up. And I thought I had daddy issues.”

“Was your father Thanos?”

“...No.”

“Then trust me. You cannot compare.” She stood as Stark closed the panel and shifted back. Nebula glared at the ceiling while he cleaned his tools. “Now that we are done with that, can you please turn off that noise?”

Stark lifted an eyebrow. “The music? Why? I kinda like it. Reminds me of home. Though why Quill was obsessed with the 70s is beyond me, he could’ve had a few 80s rock thrown in. I miss AC/DC.”

“I have no idea what you are saying.”

“Most people don’t.” He moved to put a screwdriver away, then ran a hand through his hair, face looking pale and weary. Thanks to Nebula’s assistance, he was healing more and more every day, but he still cringed in pain every so often, and he was alarmingly thin.

“You should rest,” she told him. His eyebrow lifted again at that, and she snarled, hating that the words had gotten out of her mouth. What did she care if he rested or not?

“I should check the distress signal again. Someone has to have picked up on it by now.”

“It’s useless. We do not have a good enough range to meet anyone. The ship is too damaged. It’s capabilities are too limited. We’re nowhere near the regular standards. And we won’t last much longer.”

She should have brought it to his attention earlier, but she’d been certain someone would find them by now. And he had needed the lights and music the first few days on the ship. He would wake screaming if she let him surface in the dark, with the abyss of space leering back at them.

Nightmares were a constant friend of hers. She didn’t mind sleeping with all the lights on.

He ran a hand through his hair again, making it stick up in the back. For some reason, it made Nebula want to card her fingers through it, and smooth it back down.

“How far are we from Earth?” he asked.

“Far.” Admitting out loud how much distance there actually was did not sit well. “We probably should start conserving more.”

“Right.” Stark moved over, turned off the music. The sudden silence made her ears ring, and Stark seemed to wilt without it. As if the music blaring was the backbone keeping him going.

Wishing she had something to hit, Nebula stayed in the shadows, uneasiness settling into her chest.

Stark turned to look out at the stars, resting his hand on the glass. The Terran often stared out at the universe, as if he had the weight of it sitting on his shoulders.

“I’ll think of something,” he said, his words echoing hollowly throughout the ship.

 

 

 

 

He bought them a few more days.

The armor he’d used to fight Thanos—-the armor he’d gotten the Benatar flying with—had given them oxygen for another week. The food and water situation was a little more pressing. Quill and his team had clearly not thought they would be in the stars that long. There was barely anything edible, not even the healthy protein bars Gamora was fond of.

Nebula forced Stark to take most of the food. She didn’t need it, thanks to some of her cyborg abilities, and he was so thin from his time being injured he wouldn’t handle dropping too far below a decent caloric intake.

The water they divided evenly, and hoarded as much as they could.

But despite doing their best, the food and water ran out.

 

 

 

 

He was still talking.

Nebula stood by the stairs, next to the spare set of uniforms the Guardians kept, cloaked in the shadows. Stark kneeled in front of his helmet, tapping on the side of it, muttering. She nearly called his name, to tell him to give it up, and check the distress signal again. But before she could he hissed and yanked the helmet up, shaking it.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, flipping it upside down and pulling at the wires. He messed around with it for a few moments, STILL muttering, while Nebula watched, trying to understand why he seemed so desperate.

With a sharp exhale he sat the helmet down on the floor in front of him, staring at it for a few moments like he expected it to do something.

Then, slowly, he reached out with a trembling hand and tapped on it once more.

“Is this thing on?” The hope in his voice that he had gotten it right this time made even _her_ long lost heart clench.

There was a small chirp, and soft blue light burst out of the helmet’s eyes, scanning over its creator.

Stark let out a small huff of relief, and slumped back into Quill’s chair.

“Hey, Ms. Potts,” he said, voice sounding stronger than she had heard it since the boy disappeared. Whoever this message was for, he was not letting them know how bad it was.

“If you find this recording,” he continued, taking a shaking breath, “...don’t feel about this. Part of the journey is the end. Just for the record being adrift in space with zero promise of rescue is more fun than it sounds.”

Nebula snorted softly and ran her hand over Gamora’s jackets. His definition of fun needed to be redefined.

“Food and water ran out four days ago. Oxygen will run out tomorrow morning...and that’ll be it.”

Nebula didn’t miss the hitch in his words, or the way his eyes squeezed shut. He pushed out of Quill’s chair and kneeled next to the helmet, opening his eyes and looking at it intently, as if his Ms. Potts was staring back at him.

A small smiled crossed his lips. “When I drift off, I will dream about you.” He gave a small tap on the helmet to emphasize the statement. The soft words, full of fondness, made something in Nebula crack.

“It’s always you,” he whispered, before reaching out to end the message.

Nebula turned on her heel and went upstairs while Stark ran a hand over the helmet and lowered his head.

 

 

 

 

She went back to the jackets.

Gamora had insisted she get one. Nebula informed her time and again she wasn’t a Guardian of the Galaxy, that she’d never stoop to something so mortifying.

The jacket was made anyway. Nebula ignored hers completely, and trailed her hand back over Gamora’s. It stilled smelled of her favorite perfume. As if she’d just spritzed some on, and then left to go kick ass with her crew.

She wondered how long the scent would linger after the ship lost all power.

“I’ve been in a situation like this before.” Stark slumped down against the wall, eyes bright despite the gauntness of his face. The lack of food and water hit him harder than Nebula.

“Not the exact same, obviously. It was a cave I was stuck in then, not the vast endlessness of space. But I was trapped, and there was no hope, and I didn’t see how the hell I was going to get out.”

Nebula sat beside him. “What did you do?”

“Made a suit out of a box of scraps and blasted my way out. The first version of the Iron Man suit.” His eyes flickered over the the useless armor, destroyed first in the battle with Thanos, and then again and again as he pulled parts from it to keep the Benatar alive. “I had a mission. A purpose. _‘Don’t waste your life.’_ ” He said quietly, closing his eyes. “I tried not to. But here I am, trapped again, and half the universe has been wiped out because I failed.”

“It wasn’t your fault. If anything, Quill...”

“No.” His eyes snapped open. “Quill reacted poorly to news that ripped apart his whole world. I know what it’s like to make that mistake. He isn’t to blame.”

“No.” Nebula’s fists clenched. “Thanos is.”

“The thing is,” Stark said after a while, licking at his dry and cracked lips. “I can’t see my way out of this one. I don’t know how to fix this.”

Nebula stared at the light in the middle of his chest. “Your reactor...”

“Has been powering the ship for a month. Even it has its limits. If I could find a new way to link it to the distress signal, maybe we could get a further reach, but I lack the proper cables. They’re all being used or have been destroyed by my other attempts. A flumoxitor would work to let the oxygen last a little longer, but the only one on the Benatar is cracked, and I can’t fix it. I’m in a spaceship in the middle of space, and I don’t have the right parts.” He ran a hand over his face, snorting. “Ironic, isn’t it? I had more to work with in a cave with a box of scraps.”

“You need parts to keep us alive?”

“Yeah.” He slumped down further against the wall and closed his eyes again. “But I don’t have them, Rainbow Dash.”

He didn’t. But she did. Nebula stood, pushing off from the wall, ignoring the dizziness that crashed through her.

“Get up.”

“What?” Stark blinked at her, frowning. “Why?”

“My sister did not die in vain,” Nebula snapped, pulling him to his feet. “That boy did not do his best to help us for you to give up. And you are not dying here. You’re going back to your Potts.”

“I would love to, La Femme Nikita, but I don’t know _how_.”

“I have parts.”

The recoil was fast and harsh. “What?”

“I’m a cyborg. I have cables, connectors running through my body. They can connect to the ship, give it power. They’ll buy us time.”

Stark was shaking his head, not listening. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s not your decision. It’s mine. There’s no one else to guard the galaxy. I will do this,” she snarled over his protests. “With or without your help. So we can be rescued, and get to your Terrans. And you can lead me to Thanos.”

“Smurfette, I can barely think straight, let alone find a way to connect you to the ship without destroying your brain.”

She didn’t have time for excuses, and hauled him to the engine room. “Then you better hurry.”

 

 

 

 

One last, desperate, signal went out. The reach was farther than they’d been able to stretch it before, but even that was likely not enough. Not unless someone piloted their way toward Earth, following their path to the Terran planet. But the signal went out. And Stark got the oxygen to last a little longer. He hadn’t given up hope.

Nebula sat with her back against the ship’s wall, connected to the ship’s interior with numerous wires and cables. Moving was impossible. Seeing was difficult, the cameras in the Benatar kept trying to override her eyes.

But she didn’t give in to exhaustion. The ship continued on.

“Nebula.” His voice was a cracked whisper. He had gone too long without water, would surely die soon. But she did not give in.

“Nebula...” his hand lifted, moving into her frame of sight. Then her body was slowly being shifted until she could see out the enormous windows of the cockpit. “Look...”

A supernova exploded toward them. Too fast to be a ship, too small to be a true nova. And in the center of it...in the center of it...

A woman erupting in golden flames rocketed their way. 

Static exploded throughout the ship, crackling through the speakers The voice that spoke was clear as a bell.

“I got your distress signal. Hold on. I’ll be there soon.”

Stark let out a hysterical laugh and collapsed to his knees. Nebula watched the supernova zoom closer, the feed in her brain cataloguing the sight and filling her in on the woman’s necessary information.

And there in the midst of her sister’s ship, next to a Terran she’d proudly fight side by side with, Nebula sent the mystery woman a fierce smile.

Thanos would not stand a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Marvel (AKA Carol Danvers), of course, is the Bad Ass lady of Marvel that arrives to save the day.
> 
> ***late edit, totally forget to include a summary when originally posted, whoops! It's there now! 
> 
>  
> 
> ******Okay, one more edit, they are on the Benatar, not the Milano, whoopsies! The author should have more coffee before hitting post. D'oh
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please drop a comment if you enjoyed! :)


End file.
